Maybe I Do Have To
by desina
Summary: A sixth followup to "Ripple of Hope."


0. Season 2, Episode 8: Ripple of Hope  
1. Autumn Rayne, I Don't Have To Do Anything  
2. Desina, Forgetting Something  
3. Autumn Rayne, Tumble Lightly, Dear House of Cards  
4. Desina, What's Up, Doc?  
5. Autumn Rayne, Drinking It In

...and now this.

**Maybe I Do Have To**

"You're so full of it," she says, repositioning herself so she's sitting on my lap looking me straight in the face, settling down in such a saucy manner that yes, I am indeed full of it. If she had any doubt before, she doesn't now, and the curl at the corners of her lips lets me know that.

I raise one eyebrow and look at her, not saying a word.

"There's something you have to do," she declares simply.

"Oh is there?" I taunt, guessing where she's going with this, but I'm not going to be the one to take all the risks this time.

"Mmmhmmm," she teases back, pressing her lips together after.

I tilt my head slightly, lick my lips, and smile. Her glance falls to my lips and she sighs softly. "How will I know what I," air quotes, "have to do if you don't tell me what it is?"

"Oh, so now I'm the one who tells you what you have to do?"

"I don't have to do anything you tell me, Katie. A lot of the time, I simply want to." I pause for effect. "Do I? Want to?"

She laughs. "Well, that's irrelevant because you have to."

"Have to what?"

She sighs in exasperation and looks down at my lips. "Kiss me. You have to kiss me."

"What, again?" I try very very hard not to grin, but I suspect my mouth is betraying me.

Kate begins to pout and looks a bit dejected. I pull her chin up with my knuckle.

I smile and lean forward, my lips not quite touching hers. "Well, if I have to kiss you, you know what you have to do?" I nuzzle her nose with my own as I approach her lips painfully slowly. "_You_ have to enjoy it."

She smiles slightly as I wrap my arms loosely around her, and places her cold hands on my upper chest. I gasp at the sudden temperature shock, then realize she's putting her hands on my bare chest. Voluntarily.

"Are you cold, Katie?" I worry that I've been a bad host and neglected an important aspect of her comfort. It's been long enough since women have been over that I'd quite forgotten catering to that aspect of female biochemistry. I reach over and pull the blanket up for her, and as I wrap it around her gently, I use it to pull her toward me into my lips.

"No. Yes. Not important right now," she answers. "You're very warm," she says, clearly surprised by it. Like an inferno, actually.

My lips touch hers and I wonder how I'm ever going to stop. I tilt my head and tease her lips open with my own, smelling the tequila, popcorn, and butter on her breath. I curl my fingers in her hair as I plunge foward with my tongue.

Kate responds in kind, without hesitation, moaning softly as I claim her. Every sound sends shivers down my body, joined by the jolts as she moved her hands and ran her fingers through my hair, her neatly-trimmed nails leaving arcs of overloaded sensation zipping over my body. I'm amazed there's not actual sparks igniting the air.

Look, I have kissed an impressively large number of impressively beautiful women.

But I have never, ever, been kissed like this.

Kate Reed does nothing by half measures, and that includes kissing. Our first kiss earlier was so tentative, mostly as a result of my awkwardness, that I hadn't really thought through what bringing her to my place might mean. I knew it would be exquisite torture, but I severely underestimated both how exquisite and how much torture.

She pulls back for a breather and looks at me, hands paused in mid-stroke of my hair, which probably looks like a fright wig about now.

"Are you okay?" I ask, puzzled by the expression.

A tear rolls out of one eye, down her cheek. "I am," she says, "but Lea Faran isn't."

My heart slows to its normal pace and my skin cools. There would be no more hot necking this evening. More unusually, I realize I am absolutely okay with the sudden development, something that hadn't been true when I was with Carol. The implications of that reverberate through my body for a couple of seconds before I take Kate's hands in my own and answer. "I know she's not, Katie, but we did try. And she is better off knowing that we went to bat for her."

"Are you sure there's nothing more you could try with the motion?"

I think about it. I am excellent with legal research, but I'd only had one evening. Maybe I coud do better, and maybe that research would help another client later on. "Okay, out of my own pocket, I'll pay for dinners for you, me, and Leo, plus overtime for Leo for two nights of legal research - but I can't do it until the week after next when I'm between trials. Would that work for you?"

She smiles. "Yeah. It would." Her smile droops and her face turns serious again. "Why did it hit me this hard?"

"Because you'd have made the same choice she did, Katie."

"Yeah." Tears roll down her face. "I would have."

"We both need sleep, but I'm guessing you'd rather not be alone."

She looks away, and my heart sinks with her expression. I want to make it all better, but I can't. There is no easy fix for this mood.

"Katie?" I say softly.

"Mmm?" she replies without lookng at me.

"I can't get Lea out of prison tonight, but I can at least hold you. No hanky panky."

She finally looks up at me. "Okay," she says.

I help her up and she stretches like a cat. I take her hand in mine and lead her to my bedroom, where I move her clothes onto my dresser. I settle on top of the sheet, while she slides in underneath, and I pull the comforter over both of us.

She snuggles into my chest, her breath gently puffing against me, and I fall asleep with the woman of oh-so-many dreams in my arms.

I wake when the front door closes, alone in my bed with a post-it note stuck to my chest hair. Funny girl.


End file.
